


a delicate promise

by Darkaja



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cute, Drama, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Daughter Relationship, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 22:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19186462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkaja/pseuds/Darkaja
Summary: A hooded stranger rides towards a remote village. He has something to accomplish.





	a delicate promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jelly/gifts).
  * Inspired by [a delicate condition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641923) by [Jelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jelly/pseuds/Jelly). 



> Sorry, couldn't resist to create this after reading chapter 15. That two months timeskip was too good to let it pass :P

_“I beg your pardon.”_

The blacksmith lifts his head, arm still over the sword he’s forging, and gazes at the hooded stranger who has just interrupted his work. He’s tall, completely hidden by a black cloak, and rides a thoroughbred mare.

“Yes?” He asks in a suspicious tone, after a couple of seconds.

“Have you ever seen this guy?”

The stranger holds out a hand, showing to the blacksmith the sketch of a face.

“That’s a good sketch, sir.”

“I’ll report that to its creator.” Comments the cloaked figure harshly. “Well?”

“Hm.” The other narrows the eyes, then shrugs. “Never seen him before, sorry.”

The person on the mare lets out a loud sigh. A sigh of partial relief, because that’s hopefully a dead end for him. He’s traveling around the kingdom for more than a week by now, but perhaps its better that way, at least considering the _alternative_. He pulls the reins, and starts riding in the opposite direction.

“… _Maybe_.”

He immediately stops the mare, and slightly turns his head again.

“What do you mean with that?”

“I mean,” says the blacksmith with a chuckle, “there’s _probably_ a place where you can find a person who _really_ looks like that guy.” He shows an open hand.

The stranger rolls the eyes and snorts, throwing a coin to him.

“So?”

“This isn’t enough.” Points out the blacksmith with a smirk.

“ _Careful now_ ,” hisses the other in a low voice, “my patience has a limit, and I’m already in a very bad mood today. You’re _probably_ used to play with fire, but trust my words, you _really_ don’t want to see me angry.” He opens his cloak, showing something glowing under his back, and the blacksmith gulps and pales quickly, goose bumbs on both his nude arms.

“At-At the end of this way.” He stutters, pointing a direction with the finger. “You-You’ll immediately recognize the place.”

* * *

The stranger reaches the tavern a little later, and ties his mare to a nearby tree.

“Wait for me here, ok?” He whispers gently, petting her side. “I’ll be right back, I promise you.”

He hesitates for an istant, then pulls out from his cloak a sort of mirror, and writes something on it.

_How’s it going there ?_

He keeps staring at it for several seconds, before shaking the head and putting it under his cloak again. It’s already the second time on that day that he writes the same question, yet no answer arrived.

The stranger sucks in a long breath and enters the tavern with a firm step. If the spy he paid a week before was trustworthy, then he _has_ to be on the right track. It took a while before he really accepted that decision, but now he’s sure he can do that.

He sits down at a table and calls the innkeeper with a hand’s gesture, carefully looking at all the other customers from his hood. Very few humans, and even less elves. Not a big surprise, that remote village isn’t even marked on most maps, it’s almost impossible to find it. That guy he’s looking for is clearly smart. There are no guards nor soldiers, and that makes things way easier for him.

"A Moonberry cider. And a carrot."

The innkeeper gives him a look at that weird request, his nose wrinkled, and walks away toward the tavern’s counter.

As soon as he leaves the table, the stranger relaxes his back after hours of that long ride on his mare, and closes the eyes for several minutes. He’s tired, perhaps too much, yet he can’t sleep. _Gods_ , almost a month passed since the last time he really slept, and the decision he took clearly didn’t make things better.

He reopens them only after hearing the sound of his mug bumping with the wooden table. He takes a peek at the innkeeper, distracted by a couple of customers, puts the carrot under his cloak, and quickly traces a blue rune over the mug.

“ _Aspiro frigis_.”

He starts to sip the cold cider at the same time as the other turns the head to him.

"Forgive my question," murmurs the innkeeper, "are you new here? I don’t think I've ever seen you before."

“Sort of, I’m just passing through.”

“Then why are you here?”

"I have to... _Meet_ a person." Explains the stranger with his lips curved into a grimace, sipping the cider slowly.

"It has to be an important person," the innkeeper comments with a half smile, glancing at the black circles on his face, “if you look this tired.”

" _He is_." He underlines coldly with a scowl. "To the point that sometime ago I’ve made a sort of _promise_ to someone I know, in order to do this."

The other arches an eyebrow. “Really?”

“ _Really_.”

“With all due respect sir, that’s completely nonsense.” The innkeeper notices the other’s confused gaze under the hood and gives him another smile. “I personally think there are no promises that can _really_ bind a person. Anyone should be free from both past _and_ future, and nothing should change that. Let alone a promise of this kind.”

The stranger scoffs at that. “Sorry, it’s just... It’s just that you‘re not _the first one_ who tells me such a thing. Actually,” he adds bitterly, taking another long sip from the mug, “there was a time I used to believe that, but now... Now I’m not so sure. Not after all I’ve been through lately. That’s why I’m here.”

“Well,” sighs the innkeeper after a quick shrug, “I can’t blame you. Sorry for my questions again, but these are hard times for almost everyone, especially for the elves. I guess you did notice that in the last months it’s rare to see them around this part of Xadia.” He takes a look around and ducks his head, approaching the other’s hood.

“ _I guess you already know what happened almost two month ago inside the_ _castle_.”

Several cracks appear on the glass, as the stranger squeezes his mug. He quickly throws a glance at it, and slightly turns to the other table’s side. Hopefully his hand isn’t injuried, but it still takes a lot more effort than he thinks he has to not curse.

“ _Moon above !_ ”

“Excuse me?”

He bites his tongue and gazes at a nearby frowning Moonshadow elf. “N-Nothing. My bad.”

Then he clears his throat, trying to cover clumsily the almost-broken mug with the aid of a hand.

“Yes, by the way.” He snaps, as he turns to the innkeeper again. “I’ve _heard_ about that.”

“Yep, yep.” Nodded the innkeeper without noticing the other’s weird gesture. “I mean... Really? _Assassins_ there? It’s rumored the Princess was seriously wounded, someone even says she’s actually dea- _Yeah, just a moment_!”

As the innkeeper turns the head to a customer, the hooded stranger snorts and takes another look at his mirror again, still with no words on its surface, then quickly traces a new rune on the mug.

“ _Vitrum reparo_.”

The cracks on the glass disappear just in time before the other turns to him.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Mutters the stranger with pursed lips.

“ _‘ They’re ’_ ? ” Asks the innkeeper, furrowing his brow.

He rolls the eyes. “ _She’s_ fine.” He corrects himself hastily. “I mean the Princess is fine. She _has_ to be fine.”

"I… Really hope so, sir.” The innkeeper commented, as he gives another suspicious look at him. “Sometimes I’ve the impression that the war never really ended. Let’s just wait until the next weeks, when the Pentarchy’s meeting will try resolve this situation."

The stranger takes another cider’s sip. “Anyway, I’ve also _heard_ that the Prince is quite angry. Furious, I’d say.”

“Well, I guess he has every right to be. I’m sure that he’s the first one who wants to see the responsibles in front of a tribunal.”

“You _really_ think so?” He asks absently, a finger running on his mug’s rim.

“Of course I do!” Replies surprised the innkeeper. “What you expect him to do? No one can take _justice_ in his own hands. And everyone here has great respect for him, I can assure you. I mean, he’s one of the main reason why that cursed war ended!”

“ _Again_.” Comments the stranger with a snort, rolling his eyes. “This is very weird. It’s the second time today that I hear a sentence already said by someone else. I’m starting to believe you do this on purpose.”

He lifts the head as soon as he realizes that the door was opening, and peeks at a man who enters the tavern. He keeps tracking him with his narrowed eyes from the hood, until he sits down at a nearby table. That face was way too much similar to the sketch he showed before.

 _Could he be_... ?

“Would you be so kind to tell me who that guy is?” He asks to the innkeeper, jerking his head toward that table.

"You mean Sarnek? I don’t know that much on him, honestly.” Explains the other as he scratches the back of his head, a little frown on his brow. “He is, or rather was, a castle’s worker. He moved to our small village about a month and a half ago. I remember that he looked _very_ _scared_ when he arrived here. He’s quite private, but as far as the other villagers say, he’s a good person."

A month and a half ago. Yeah, it has to be that Sarnek, or whatever his name is, considering it was probably a fake one.

“Oh, I’d never dubt it.” The stranger replies wryly in a cold voice.

He pulls out the hidden mirror from his cloak again, and look at it under the table’s edge.

 _Still nothing_.

“Just curious,” asks the stranger politely, “when was the last time you cleaned this place?”

The innkeeper’s frown deepens at that. "Two days ago, sir. Why?"

"Ah, _that’s really a shame_."

He proceeds to slam on the wooden table a small bag full of coins.

"Uh..." The innkeeper’s eyes quickly darted between the coins and the other person several times. "The cider you ordered isn’t _that_ expensive."

“You can consider it a sort of... How can I say... Tip. After all, you’re a good person. Just remember one single thing: you never saw me here today. _Is that clear_?”

The other sucks in a breath and quickly turns pale. "P-Please,” he stammers in a trembling voice, “I don't want problems here! There are ch-"

" _Then_ ,” interrupts him the stranger quietly, “just take the money, and you won't have them. It’s a very simple task the one I’m asking to you right now."

As the innkeeper grabs the bag and leaves his table, he looks back at the man sitting at the other table. He closes his eyes, and tries to imagine the next step.

 _Magic_ or _steel_ ?

At first, he opts for magic. Just a hand’s movement, a couple of words, and that guy would turn into ashes before he could even realize it. But then again, he has to be discreete. Magic attracts too much attention, and the smell of a corpse’s burned flesh wouldn’t help that much. After all, that’s a small village, he can’t risk it.

He finally opts for steel. A quick stab from behind in his back, and everything would be over. No one else would notice it, nor approach him, as long as he doesn’t fall on the tavern’s floor.

The stranger reopens his eyes and rises from the chair calmly, then he starts walking firmly towards him. He brings his hand under the cloak, and clenches the hilt of one of the two recurved swords put on his back. His eyes locate the right spot between the other’s shoulder, as he keeps proceeding.

Anyway, that guy isn’t as smart as he thought when he entered the tavern. His steps are quite heavy and noisy, but the other person doesn’t even bother to turn his head to him. He just stays there like an idiot, staring the air blankly.

Like he was _asking_ for it.

But then, for an unkown reason, his gait becomes slower, until he completely stops right behind the man’s chair.

 _Why_ ?

He’s still angry, _he has every right to be_ , he thinks, yet he can’t move. He had no problems back when he killed the others, then why? Is it because he never killed in cold blood before, or maybe because that guy was disarmed, and isn’t expecting to die that day? No, there _has_ to be something else.

The stranger finally moves his eyes from the other’s back to the rest of his body. He’s apparently quiet, and is looking at a distant group of people, drinking with his hand a beer he has ordered absently.

There’s clearly something very familiar on that hand that drags his attention, something that forces him to glance at it, where a small item glows on a finger.

_A ring. Someone who’s expecting him to return._

“Hi!”

The stranger winces and lowers the head to that voice’s source.

“Are you here for my birthday too?” Asks a little gril with the largest smile he has ever seen.

He whidraws instinctively, as his hand leaves the hilt of the sword. But then the man who was sitting in front of him stands up and runs to her, moving his hands frenetically.

The stranger blinks. That guy is deaf.

‘ _How many times do I have to repeat myself ? ‘_ He signs _. ‘ Don’t talk to strangers ! ’_

‘ _Sorry dad._ ’ Signs back to him the girl with tears in her eyes.

Sarnek notices her face. ‘ _Come on. Please. Don’t cry. Go play with the other children. It’s your birthday after all._ ‘

He keeps staring at her until she returns among the other kids, then he turn his head to the stranger, still frozen. He gives him a worried look, but his eyes widen as soon as he sees the other’s hands movements.

‘ _Sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt- '_ He hesitates an istant before he makes the last sign _. ' Her._ ‘

‘ _You know sign language ? You’re not that bad!_ ‘ Gestures Sarnek surprised.

The stranger smiles weakly. ‘ _Thanks. Someone I know teached me long time ago_. ‘

‘ _I’m sorry for her sir. Sometimes she’s a little bit stubborn. She reminds me a lot of her mother._ _And I’m also sorry for my rudeness_. ‘ Sarnek keeps signing with a smirk. ‘ _Those are hard times. I’m just worried about her_. ‘

‘ _Yes._ ‘ Manages to gesture the other one, as he tries to pull the hood on his face even more than before. ‘ _I can understand that_. ‘

‘ _You do ?_ _Wait. Don’t tell me_. ‘

The stranger ducks his head at that, as Sarnek narrows the eyes at him.

‘ _You have a child too !_ ‘

‘ _I-_ ‘ He changes movement after a sigh of relief. ‘ _Not exactly. She’s still pregnant_. ‘

‘ _Really ? How many weeks ?_ ‘

‘ _Almost thirty_. ‘ Confesses the stranger, for the first time on that day with a sincere smile. Only then he realizes what he just signed.

An almost imperceptible shade runs on Sarnek’s face, but he keeps smiling to him. He stares at the floor for a few seconds with a little frown, and the stranger puts his hand on the sword again under the cloak.

‘ _Is she a woman or-_ ‘

‘ _Woman_. ‘ Gestures back the stranger hastily. Maybe a bit too much hastily. ‘ _We really hope our child is gonna be a girl._ ‘

Sarnek’s frown softens. ‘ _We have to celebrate then !_ ‘

‘ _What-_ ‘

He can’t end his gesture, before Sarnek takes him to his own table.

‘ _Let me offer you something. Please. A beer_? ‘

He hesitates. Can he really trust that guy? After all, he was supposed to kill him.

‘ _Alright. Just one_. ‘ The stranger signs with a sigh, sitting on a chair next to the fireplace.

Sarnek calls with his hand the innkeeper, who stares terrified at the hooded stranger. They wait for him at the table, while the fire keeps cracking next to them. The stranger observes Sarnek out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t seem suspicious at all, and he keeps looking carefree at his daughter, still playing with the other children.

But his own hand is still holding the sword’s hilt firmly.

“Ehm…”

The stranger turns the head to the innkeeper, who has their beers.

“These are yours, I think.” He says in a sheepish tone, as the other one glares at him.

“Thanks, you can _leave_ now. _And remember what I told you before_.” Scowls at him the stranger, catching his mug mid-air. He speaks from his hood, so that Sarnek can’t read his lips.

The innkeeper gives the other mug to Sarnek and turns around, darting away.

Sarnek looks confused at that scene. ‘ _Cheers_. ‘ He finally signs with a shrug. ‘ _A happy and long life to your daughter !_ ‘

‘ _To the future_. ‘ Gestures back the other with a grimace, rising the mug with one hand, while the other one is clenching the sword under the cloak.

They both empty their mugs at the same time, and remain in silence for several seconds, before the stranger decides to take the initiative.

‘ _So._ ‘ He starts signing. ‘ _I’ve been in this village several times. I’ve never seen you before. Why you came here_ _?_ ‘

Sarnek turns the head to the fire, his face gloom all of a sudden. ‘ _I made a promise_. ‘

‘ _A_ _promise_ ? ‘

‘ _Yes. A promise_. ‘ Signs Sarnek again, as he stares at the flames blankly. ‘ _I promised my wife to protect our daughter before she died. This was hers._ ‘ He shows the glowing ring on the hand, then gives the stranger a melancholy smile, before turning to the fire again. ‘ _She was mortally wounded by elves a few months before the war ended. It happened the night when King Harrow was killed. Her job was to protect him in his castle._ ‘

He doesn’t notice the face that the other makes at that name. The stranger ducks the eyes, and his hand releases the sword’s hilt.

‘ _Some weeks ago I commited a_ _terrible mistake_. ‘ Continues to gesture Sarnek. ‘ _I trusted the wrong people. If only I had known what would have happen next-_ ‘ He shakes his head and lays the back against the chair. ‘ _I’ve put her life into a great danger for no real reason_. ‘ He concludes with angry movements.

He turns his head to the children, where his daughter is eating a cake.

‘ _I think you did what any other father would have done in your place_. _I also made a terrible thing some weeks ago to protect my family_. _I can’t really blame you_. ‘ Tries to sign the stranger, laying with discomfort on his own chair as well. ‘ _You could try to return to the castle. I’m sure they’ll somehow understand._ ‘

‘ _Maybe_. ‘ Sarnek gestures back with a thoughtful expression. ‘ _But it doesn’t really matter now_. _She’s happy. People here are very kind. She has already made new friends. I don’t think I’ll ever return there._ ‘ He gives him a sad look. ‘ _Sometimes she asks me about her mother_. _I don’t know what to tell her_. ‘

‘ _I can tell you this from personal experience_. ’ Signs the stranger, with a lump in his throat. ‘ _Never hide the truth from someone_. _Tell her that sometimes there are changes you don’t expect. Tell her that’s part of growing up in life. That worked for me, years ago_. ’

‘ _Thanks for the advice. I’ll try that_. _I’m sorry that you couldn’t meet my wife. I’m sure she’d liked you_. ’ Sarnek gives him another smile, before realizing her daughter is touching his shoulder. ‘ _Yes honey ?_ ‘

‘ _I brought you some cake_ _!_ ‘

‘ _Thanks_. ‘ He takes his plate and puts her on his legs. ‘ _I’ll have to tell you something later_. ‘

She grimaces at that. ‘ _Did I do something wrong ?_ ‘

‘ _No honey_. ‘ Signs Sarnek with a hand, pinching her nose between two finger of the other one, “ _Of course not._ ”

The stranger keeps staring at the table in silence, still lost in his thoughts. He doesn’t notice that his hood has slightly lowered when he relaxed on the chair before, and realizes too late what the girl is gesturing to his father.

‘ _Dad. That guy has the same green eyes as mom_ _!_ ‘

‘ _Green eyes ?_ ‘ Sarnek puts down his daughter, and stares at that man with a terrified expression. ‘ _I beg your pardon sir_. _Have we ever met before today_ ? ‘ His hands run in front of the girl instinctively, in a sort of protective gesture.

The other winces again and stands up abruptly. ‘ _Sorry. I have to go now. Thanks for the beer._ ‘

His hands sign for a last time before he leaves the tavern.

‘ _I’m sure_ _my father would liked you_. ‘

* * *

The stranger walks out the tavern’s door without looking back, and lays his back against the same tree where his mare is resting, sliding down slowly against it. Then he crouches for several seconds, arms hugging the legs, and tears rolling down his cheek as he realizes what he almost did to that family.

“ _It could have been me_.”

He puts a trembling hand under the cloak, and extracts another time the mirror. His wet eyes barely manage to look at it.

_We’re fine. Both me and our Little Moonbeam. We miss you._

He reads that short message written on its surface many times, before finally breathing and reclining his head to the moon. It’s already night, he didn’t even notice it inside the tavern.

_I miss you too._

He unties his mare and feeds her with the carrot he has under the cloak, then takes the reins in his hands firmly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Kuritsa.” Whispers Callum to her ear, lowering his hood completely. “Come on, it’s time to go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I've a sort of fetish for inns and taverns.


End file.
